


Silence Your Mind And Listen With Your Heart

by BadSideOf45



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Christmas, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24065836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadSideOf45/pseuds/BadSideOf45
Summary: Pete has just endured another break-up.  But could Pete find what he was looking for around the corner this Christmas?
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14
Collections: Have Yourself Some Merry Little Peterick 2019





	Silence Your Mind And Listen With Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SnitchesAndTalkers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnitchesAndTalkers/gifts).



> Without your kindness, this would have been lost forever.
> 
> Thank you to all who take the time to read this story. It means the world to me.
> 
>   
> To the one who loved all equally - I Miss You.

Pete had known it was going to be a bad holiday season since the day before Halloween. That was the day Mikey, his boyfriend of six months, suggested they stop seeing each other.

It was an amicable split (or so Pete had told all his friends and relatives - they tended to worry about him after several intense past breakups); both Pete and Mikey worked at Island Records and had met at a company function in Chicago. 

It had been an instant attraction for both parties. Pete was an olive skinned, whiskey eyed, tattooed whirling dervish of a man, while Mikey was fair, hazel eyed, and had a calming demeanor that balanced out Pete’s liveliness. 

Mikey brought out the best in Pete, which was a good thing, except for one major obstacle: Pete lived in Chicago and Mikey lived in New York.

They (mainly Pete) had given it a valiant effort, logging in hours upon hours of FaceTime and spending a lot of money flying back and forth on weekends. 

It was just a matter of time until Pete’s need for continuous attention and affection caused Mikey to back off from their relationship.

***

So there Pete sat, four weeks later, all alone on his couch in his high-rise apartment the afternoon after Thanksgiving. The television was on for company, playing “It’s A Wonderful Life”, the perfect soundtrack to his reflection back on the lecture his mother had given him the day before.

“You’re 40 now - too old to be catting around.” “When are you going to settle down and find a nice young man? Have a family?” “You’re getting older, but you’re still young enough to have kids - you know I would love more grandchildren!”

Pete looked to his siblings for help at this point, but all they could offer were looks of sympathy. He had stayed the polite three hours and visited with his family, then beat a hasty retreat back to his own apartment in Chicago. Hemmy, his bulldog, had waddled to the door to greet him, a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. 

Hemmy sat at his side now and whined to go out. 

“Yeah, I guess we need to get out and get some air,” Pete said to the bulldog while turning off the television. 

They walked to the door where Pete put on his coat over a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants and clipped Hemingway’s leash to his collar. They then went out the front door and rode down the elevator to the lobby. 

After they left the building Pete and Hemingway began to wander down the festive streets of Chicago’s downtown, decked out in its finest tinsel and twinkling lights, ready to greet Christmas in all its glory. 

Pete usually enjoyed this time of year; he normally embraced the general feeling of happiness and joy which radiated not only from the city itself, but also from all Chicagoans both young and old. 

He passed many individuals and families laden with brightly wrapped packages, or cozy pairs with ice skates thrown over their shoulders - even a man on his cell phone discussing rather loudly with his partner exactly how many presents WERE appropriate for a six month old. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at the overheard conversation, but then frowned when he remembered that he would, once again, be single for the Yuletide season. Lost in the melancholy that overwhelmed him at this realization, he soon found himself led (dragged, rather) to a small, cozy park located a few blocks away from his apartment building.

Pete let Hemingway run free in the dog park as he sat on a bench and took in his surroundings. It was very cold and there was a bit of snow on the ground left over from the light snowfall the city experienced before Thanksgiving.

Pete enjoyed the twinkling white fairy lights which were draped on the low branches of the trees that lined the pathways in the park. He followed them with his eyes until they ended abruptly at a small Christmas tree lot tucked into a corner at the other end of the park. 

Pete remembered seeing a similar stand set up before Halloween, but since he had no need for pumpkins or dried corn he had paid it no mind. However, he thought, a Christmas tree might be the very thing he needed to get himself out of his recently acquired holiday-related doldrums. 

He whistled for Hemmy and, after his leash was in place, they began to stroll leisurely down the path towards the brightly lit, cheery little stand.

As he got closer, Pete could see that there were quite a few families considering various sizes and shapes of trees around the lot. He pulled Hemingway closer to himself as he wandered through the quaint stand, which held about fifty trees.

Bright, big bulbed colorful Christmas lights were strung overhead to immerse the buyer in the magic of the season. 

Pete considered several different trees, including a beautiful nine foot Blue Spruce and a five foot Noble Fir before he stopped beside a majestic seven foot Frasier Fir tree.

Pete inspected the tree, then addressed the bulldog at his feet. “Well, what do you think, Hemmy? Is this it?” 

Hemingway looked up at his master and gave a disinterested “Woof,” which Pete chose to interpret as a yes. 

He glanced around until he spotted a guy in an apron, cell phone in hand, staring intently at the screen. “Hey!” Pete called out. “How much do you want for this tree?” 

The man just kept staring at his screen as if Pete hadn’t said a word. 

Pete tried again. “This tree here,” he pointed to the fir. “How much?” 

Once again the man didn’t look up from his cell phone. 

“What a jerk,” Pete muttered under his breath to Hemingway. 

“He can’t hear you,” said a voice off to Pete’s right. 

Pete looked over with a puzzled glance. 

“He can’t hear you. He has a hearing loss.” 

He saw a young girl, who was addressing him. She had reddish-blondish hair and glasses and was leaning against an old baby blue pick-up truck with the words “Stump Farms” painted on the side. She, like the man, was typing furiously on her cell phone. 

She looked up and Pete saw the bored look in her eyes. “Are you interested in that tree?”  
Pete just nodded his head. 

“Okay - I’ll get Dad over here to give you a price.” 

The girl, who looked about twelve, pushed herself off the truck and walked over to the man in the apron. She got his attention, signed to him with her hands, then they both started walking back towards Pete. 

As the man got closer, Pete noted his bright blue-green eyes behind hipster glasses, his pink pert nose, cheeks with just a hint of blush, and the most perfect set of lips he had ever laid eyes on.

He began to regret his own choice in wardrobe when he noted the man’s leather jacket layered over a cardigan and thermal shirt tucked into black skinny jeans. His head was covered by a felt fedora placed at a jaunty angle. Beat up black Doc Martens completed his look. 

Pete just stood staring until the young girl spoke. “Dad says the tree costs seventy five dollars, baled and tied to your car.” 

Pete shook his head slightly as he came out of his Hot-Dad trance. “Um, that’s fine, except I don’t have a car.” 

The young girl signed to her dad again who signed back to her. “He says we can deliver it to you after the stand closes tonight at 8:00.” 

Pete thought about the offer - if he hurried home he would have close to two hours to shower, shave, clean the apartment, and order in a surprise dinner for the three of them. 

“That sounds definitely doable.” 

Pete pulled out his wallet and offered the man a hundred dollar bill.

“Thank you,” Pete said to the guy, who smiled warmly and signed to his daughter.

“Dad says no problem.” The good-looking man once again signed to his daughter, who looked slightly miffed when she turned back to Pete. “By the way, he wants you to know his name is Patrick Stump. My name is Cecilia, but you can call me CC.” 

Patrick stuck out his hand, and Pete shook it firmly. “Pete - Pete Wentz,” he said, never taking his eyes off the other man.

Pete wrote down his address for the pair before he and Hemingway turned and walked back toward his apartment. He glanced back over his shoulder, only to find Patrick quickly looking away. He quickened his pace, equally excited and nervous to see the handsome man again.

***

As soon as Pete let Hemmy off his leash in the apartment, he became a cleaning tornado, throwing away empty pizza boxes, beer bottles, and take-out cartons scattered around the apartment. 

He then moved to the bedroom where he picked up all his dirty clothes and shoved them in the hamper to wash another day. 

Finally, he hopped into the shower, washed himself quickly, toweled off, and picked out his best Smiths T-shirt and black skinny jeans to wear. 

Before he had showered he had ordered from the restaurant around the corner which made the most amazing deep dish cheese pizza known to man. 

While waiting for his guests to arrive, Pete called his best friend Joe. As soon as the call was connected he began to speak swiftly.

“Joe! I met him! The most perfect man! He’s so great - he has hazel eyes, and a cute nose, he wears glasses, and has a Christmas tree lot in the park!” 

“Who is this?” Joe deadpanned into the phone before he busted out laughing. 

Pete rolled his eyes. “Haha very funny. I mean it Joe! He’s, he’s…”

“Pete! Pete! Have you even talked to this man yet?” Joe asked his excited friend. 

Pete calmed down and rubbed his hand on the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, not exactly, he has a hearing loss.” 

Before Joe could answer there was a knock on Pete’s front door. 

“Gotta go Joe! He’s here!” Pete heard Joe yell “Wait!” before he hastily disconnected the call.

Hemingway was the first to the door. He barked until Pete tugged on his collar and told him to sit and stay. 

Pete gave himself a once over in the mirror beside the door and, satisfied with his appearance, opened it. 

There stood CC, holding the top of the tree.

“Your tree,” she said nonplussed.

“Hey! Come on in!” Pete moved aside and made room for CC and Patrick to pass by with the tree.

When he walked past Pete, Patrick gave him a small smile and a wave, which Pete returned. 

“Where do you want it?” asked CC, looking around the living room for the stand which Pete had brought out of the closet earlier. 

“Right over there,” Pete pointed to the corner where he had made room for the tree. 

Patrick and CC set the tree in the stand, tightened the screws, and cut the twine that kept the tree baled together. Pete smiled widely as the tree unfurled in all its glory.

Pete secretly stole a glance at Patrick, glad to see him smiling as well. 

All of the sudden Patrick’s eyes widened as he looked at Pete. His hands became a flurry of activity as he signed to his daughter, pointing at Pete’s shirt between hand movements. 

“Dad wants me to tell you he likes your Smiths shirt. He thinks their music is really awesome,” CC said as she headed toward Hemingway. 

“What’s your dog’s name?” she asked, forgetting about the conversation between Pete and her father. 

“His name is Hemingway”, Pete replied. I thought your father has a hearing loss…” 

CC looked up from where she was petting Hemingway. 

“He does, but he hasn’t always been that way. It happened when he and my Papa were in an accident a couple of years ago.” 

Pete looked at Patrick, who was busy fussing with the tree. 

Pete said to CC, “And your Papa?” 

She looked down at Hemmy and answered quietly, “He’s gone to Heaven.” 

Pete was going to say something to comfort the girl, but at that moment the doorbell rang. 

Pete held up his finger in a “one minute” gesture and went to open the door. He paid the pizza delivery man and turned back to his guests. 

They were caught up in a discussion - Patrick’s hands signing very fast, while CC nodded and added her thoughts every so often. Pete shifted from foot to foot, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. 

Patrick suddenly looked up and pointed to CC and then to Pete. CC and Patrick approached the door. “Dad says he’s sorry we interrupted your dinnertime. We’ll leave now.” 

Pete stood at the door, frown widening by the second. “I thought we all could share the pizza - as a thank you for helping me with the tree?” 

Patrick looked at his daughter, then at Pete. He discussed this for a moment with CC, who after turned and said, “We’d like that. Dad says thanks.” 

Pete gave a thumbs up and led them all from his living room into the kitchen. 

“Please, have a seat,” Pete said, placing the pizza on the table. He gathered plates from the pantry and sodas from the fridge before he walked back to where his guests were seated. 

Both Patrick and CC smiled at him as he approached. 

He could see how much they looked alike now that they had removed their coats and hats. Patrick had strawberry blond hair like his daughter, and the same dusting of freckles over the bridge of his nose. He had laughter in his eyes behind thick black framed glasses and smiled softly at his daughter as she talked to Pete about Hemingway. 

Through his daughter, Pete learned that Patrick was 35 and had inherited the family farm which he ran with CC’s help. He loved Prince and David Bowie, as well as various R&B artists. He was also a big Ghostbusters fan. 

Pete informed them, quite grudgingly, that he had reached the big 4-0 that year. Pete told Patrick and CC about his work as a PR person at Island records, and entertained his guests with colorful stories from his past glory days as the lead singer of a locally celebrated band.

After what seemed like only a few minutes, Patrick glanced at his watch and gasped. He stood quickly and signed to his daughter, putting his coat on with one hand while doing so. “Dad says he’s sorry we stayed so long, but he enjoyed talking to you.” 

CC watched her father again. “He says he hopes the tree works out for you and that you have a Merry Christmas.” 

At that point, Pete realized he may never see Patrick again. “Say,” Pete said, quickly coming up with a brilliant plan. “Do you decorate the tree as well? I work long hours at my job and don’t really have time to do it properly.” 

CC signed the question to her father, who looked at Pete skeptically. 

“I-I’ll pay you any amount you want!” Pete exclaimed.

Pete must have looked pretty pathetic - all Patrick could do was grin and nod his head. 

He signed to his daughter then turned to leave. “Dad says to tell you we’ll be back Sunday night - we close early then. See you around seven?” 

Pete smiled widely, first at CC, then Patrick. “Seven on Sunday. See you then!” 

Pete let the pair out of the door and watched them until they climbed into the elevator. He was elated that Patrick said yes, and had already begun making plans for Sunday before his apartment door was shut.

***

“Pete, are you sure you know what you’re doing with this guy? I mean, he has a daughter and a hearing loss. You’re lucky if you remember to feed Hemmy every day!” 

Hemmy lifted his head and aimed a half-hearted “Woof” at Joe. 

“See, even Hemmy’s on my side here, Joe! I’m telling you Patrick and I are kindred spirits…” 

Pete thought back on the past two days, how he had walked Hemingway to the park which held Patrick’s tree lot. 

Pete had caught Patrick’s eye more than once, but Patrick had been so busy they barely had enough time to exchange smiles and waves. 

He waved at CC too, on the rare occasion that she looked up from her cell phone. 

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt. You and Mikey just broke up…”

Pete frowned at Joe. “Mikey’s in the past, and Patrick makes me happy. Besides, I hear he’s dating some studio musician now. Isn’t it okay if I moved on too?” 

Joe looked up from the couch from where he had been lounging, eating Cheetos and watching Sunday’s soccer match on the television.

“You know I care for you, man. I’m only trying to look out for you.” 

Pete sighed loudly. “I know, and I appreciate it, but I really like this guy.” 

Joe gave Pete a lopsided smile and turned back to the game, knowing when his best friend set his mind to something he went after it with everything he had, usually with his heart leading the charge.

***

Later, after he had kicked a protesting Joe out of his apartment, Pete showered and got ready for the arrival of Patrick and CC. 

He brushed Hemingway’s fur coat and put a festive bow on his collar. Just as he was about to order dinner for the three of them, he heard a knock at the door. 

“Coming!” Pete yelled as he fanned various take-out menus on the coffee table.

He opened the door and gave an enormous grin as well as an excited wave to Patrick and CC. 

Hemmy sniffed around their feet and, when satisfied, trotted further into the apartment and lay down with an unenthusiastic “Wumph”. 

“Hey! Come on in! I’ve got everything ready!” Pete exclaimed while closing the door.

He pointed out excitedly the various decorations to the pair. 

Patrick perused the items thoughtfully, then signed to his daughter. “Dad says we should start with the lights, then garland, and ornaments last.” 

Pete smiled brightly and nodded at Patrick, who ducked his head to hide his blush while he removed his coat and hat. Pete felt his heartbeat quicken when Patrick raised his eyes and gave him a warm smile which caused his eyes to sparkle.

Pete put on some contemporary Christmas music, and was surprised to see Patrick bopping along to the beat while untangling the lights. 

“Can he hear the music?” Pete asked CC. 

She rolled her eyes at him. “No, he can feel the vibrations of the music, especially the drums and bass.” 

Patrick pointed his finger at Pete and crooked it in a beckoning motion. “Dad wants-”

“I think I got this one.” Pete said playfully, a grin breaking out on his face. 

He approached Patrick, who pointed to the now unraveled strand of lights, and then to the other side of the tree.

Pete nodded and placed himself opposite of Patrick, and together they hung the miniature colorful lights on the various branches. Every time their hands touched to pass the lights Pete would feel a little jolt of excitement in his stomach.

Pete looked around for CC when they were done, but she had gone off to play with Hemmy and immerse herself in her cell phone. 

He turned back to Patrick and shrugged. 

Patrick, sensing Pete’s uncertainty, pointed to the garland and motioned to the tree once again. They took their time with the garland, brushing hands together more frequently with each pass of the intertwined strands of gold and silver.

Finally, all that was left to do was to hang the ornaments. 

Pete thought for a moment, then held his hand up to his face and pantomimed eating with an imaginary utensil using his other hand. 

Patrick smiled and nodded. 

It was agreed - they would stop to have dinner.

***

After his discovery of Patrick and CC’s lifestyles as vegetarians, Pete had ordered in a lovely meal of vegetable stir-fry, tofu fried rice, and vegetable spring rolls. 

After dinner they all carried their plates to the sink, and CC joined in to hang up the ornaments. Soon the tree looked as it should, perfect with all its lights and glitter and shiny glass baubles.

“Would you like to stay and watch some television? I think ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ will be on soon.” Pete asked, secretly hoping they would keep him company for a little while. 

CC asked Patrick, who nodded his head. 

Pete and Patrick sat on the couch, while CC laid on the floor with the dog after she showed Pete how to turn on Closed Captioning for her father, so he could read and follow along with the movie’s dialogue. 

Pete sat very still and straight on the couch, hands in his lap, afraid if he moved one inch closer or farther away it would give Patrick the wrong idea. He bounced his knee up and down, full of nervous energy, until he felt a gentle, reassuring touch on his leg. 

Pete looked down and there, resting on his knee, was Patrick’s small, pale left hand. 

Pete looked over at Patrick, who continued to stare at the screen, a shy smile on his lovely face. Pete couldn’t help but smile himself.

Something about Patrick, he realized, soothed his soul.

When the movie was over Patrick poked CC with his foot, stood, and pointed towards the front door. CC stood as well.

“I have to be at school tomorrow so Dad says we should go.” 

Pete reached for his wallet, but Patrick’s pale slim-fingered hand on his forearm stopped him. After signing furiously to CC and blushing madly, Patrick glanced at Pete while quickly donning his leather jacket and slipping out the front door. 

Pete looked at CC, made curious by the exchange. 

“Dad says you don’t have to pay to see him,” she said while putting on her coat. “Just ask him out - he likes you. See ya!” CC then turned and flounced out the door.

Pete stared, flabbergasted, at the open doorway until he heard the elevator chime. 

The sound startled him out of his astonishment, causing him to make a mad dash for the elevator, reaching it just after the doors had closed. 

He strutted back to the door of his apartment, whistling “All I Want For Christmas Is You” and making plans in his head to see Patrick again very soon. 

When he was inside his apartment Pete pulled out his phone and began to Google furiously. He had a phone call to make.

***

Pete returned to the little tree lot in the park the next evening, Hemmy in tow. 

He stammered his way through asking Patrick out, via a very amused CC. 

Patrick nodded his head yes and gave Pete a wide, effervescent smile. 

They met up the following night, and every night for the next couple of weeks, after the tree lot had closed for the evening. Pete would bring Patrick his favorite Starbucks order, and CC a cup of hot chocolate. 

Patrick, Pete and CC would sometimes wander through the streets of Chicago, pointing out their favorite buildings and museums, peppering stories about their lives throughout comfortable conversation (with CC frequently interpreting).

Other times the three would go back to Pete’s apartment, where they would eat before CC collapsed in front of the television with Hemingway, which left Patrick and Pete to blush and smile at each other on the couch. 

They had known each other for a week before Pete worked up the courage to lean over the small distance on the couch, take Patrick’s face in his hands, close his eyes, and kiss him gently on the lips. 

He pulled back and opened his eyes, hoping Patrick would be smiling. He not only smiled, but buried his hand in the front of Pete’s shirt and hauled him in for another, less innocent kiss. 

They held hands like teenagers that night, sending secret smiles to each other behind CC’s back. 

Throughout the second and third weeks they were stealing clandestine kisses all around Chicago. They would sneak away from CC and find various hidden places made, it seemed, just for them. 

They kissed under the Chicago Bean, Christmas lights reflecting like a thousand tiny stars around them. 

They kissed high above Chicago, in a hidden alcove on the Skydeck of the Willis Building, the city literally at their feet. 

They kissed while under the moon, stars and planets in the back row of the dark auditorium of the Adler Planetarium.

But Pete’s favorite by far was the kiss he stole from Patrick after they both had just fallen hard on the ice while trying to skate at Navy Pier. 

It was the first time he had ever heard Patrick laugh, and it was like music to his ears.

At the beginning of the fourth week, Joe finally met Patrick, coming along with Pete on one of his many park excursions with Hemmy. 

They bonded, through CC, over favorite metal bands, their shared love of all things Ghostbusters, and embarrassing stories Joe told of his and Pete’s various exploits while traveling with Arma Angelus, their now-defunct band.

As Joe and Pete walked back to Pete’s apartment, Joe cautioned Pete once again. 

“I know you, dude, and when you fall you fall hard. Take your time with Patrick. For both your sakes. He seems like a cool guy who’s really into you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

Pete just shrugged his shoulders and buried his head further into his hoodie, knowing his best friend was unintentionally reinforcing the doubts and fears residing in the back of Pete’s mind. 

What if he wasn’t good enough for Patrick? For CC? What if Patrick left at the first sign of his clinginess? 

Pete shooed the negative thoughts away and stopped abruptly, turning to face his best friend.  
“Patrick and I share more emotion in a look or a touch than most people do speaking hours to each other. Sometimes I catch myself thinking in terms of forever with him.” 

Joe pulled Pete up in a side hug and they continued down the street, both lost in their own thoughts.

***

It was the Sunday that began the fifth week, and Patrick had asked Pete, through CC, if he could come straight to Pete’s after the tree lot closed at six. Pete nodded at him enthusiastically. 

Pete went home and took a shower, deciding to wear his favorite Morrisey shirt and a pair of sweats. They probably would just stay in, order take-out, and watch a few movies. 

Soon after six there was a small, almost inaudible knock at the door, which caused Hemmy to cock his head for a second before returning to his nap in front of the television.

Pete opened the door to a very nervous looking Patrick, who had his hands buried in his pockets and was shifting his feet from side to side. 

Pete looked around the hallway. “Where’s CC?” he asked Patrick.

Patrick made a sign with his hands resembling sleeping, immediately followed by an “over” motion. 

Pete smiled and stepped aside, allowing Patrick entrance to his apartment. 

Pete tried to slow down his breathing as he closed and locked the front door, the implications of the absence of CC not lost on him. 

When he turned around Patrick was right behind him, coat removed, hand coming up to touch Pete’s face before moving to curl around his neck and pull him in for a deep kiss. 

Pete gently guided Patrick backwards to the couch, all the while trying to get his fill of Patrick’s soft, plump lips.

Patrick, Pete discovered, made a vast array of beautiful sounds when Pete kissed down his neck and along his collarbone. They increased Pete’s desire to hear more of them in a private, more intimate setting.

He stood abruptly and reached his hand out to Patrick, hoping that the young man would pick up on all the love, desire and respect Pete was pushing towards him at that moment.

Patrick smiled and tenderly grasped his hand. Pete pulled Patrick to his feet, and they headed into the bedroom together.

***

The next day Pete woke up smiling and sated, remembering how stunning Patrick had looked undressed (pale and flawless); the feel of Patrick’s skin under his fingers (soft and lush); the smell along the curve of Patrick’s neck (piney and musky); the taste of Patrick’s body on his tongue (warm and sweet); and the beautiful sounds (gentle sighs and seductive moans) Patrick had made in the throes of passion. 

He reached out for his lover, only to discover a very empty and lonely bed. He got up and searched the apartment for Patrick, but he had slipped out before Pete had a chance to try and convince him to stay in bed, if not for just a little while longer. 

Pete found a note on the counter, written in Patrick’s loveable, almost indecipherable scrawl. 

“Please come see me this evening at the tree lot. I have something important to show you. Yours, Patrick.” 

***

Pete was excited all day at work to see not only what Patrick had for him, but to kiss and hold his lover once again.

He too had a surprise for Patrick; he was so wired he had a hard time concentrating in all his meetings. 

Pete took Hemmy out for his walk early that evening, so that he and Patrick could have as much time alone as they wanted. 

When 7:30 rolled around, he began to head for the park, eager to have both his and Patrick’s surprises revealed. 

Just as he rounded the last bend to enter the park, he pulled up short and hid back behind a wide oak tree.

Pete watched as a tall ginger-haired man pulled Patrick into a monster hug, and, to his horror, Patrick was hugging him back! 

The man then smacked a kiss to Patrick’s cheek, who smiled brightly.

They began to sign back and forth enthusiastically, stopping to touch each other’s arms gently from time to time.

Confused and upset, Pete turned and slowly walked back to his apartment.

He tried to justify Patrick’s actions to himself, but he couldn’t come up with a convincing explanation.

He rode up to his apartment on the elevator, heart in his throat. Pete opened the front door, fed Hemmy, and looked over at the Christmas tree. 

He could still picture Patrick and CC’s bright smiles and silly dancing as they helped him decorate the tree. 

It hurt him deeply to look at it, a reminder of happiness that had just brushed past his fingertips and floated away like snowflakes on the breeze. 

Before he realized what he was doing he had picked the tree up; lights going dark, garland barely clinging to the branches, shiny pieces of glass crunching under his feet as he stalked over, threw open his front door and flung the offensive tree into the hallway. 

Pete slammed the door shut and stomped off to his bedroom, where he cocooned himself in his covers and finally allowed the tears to fall freely. 

“Merry Christmas to me,” he muttered, before swallowing a Xanax and drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

***

He awoke only once that night. 

Through his drowsiness he could hear an incessant rapping at his front door that became louder and more frantic with time. Pete just turned over and burrowed deeper into his covers, glad to hear his next-door-neighbor Mrs. Gladowitz come out and verbally shoo whoever was knocking away from his door. 

He must remember to get her a nice scarf or something for Christmas…

***

Pete woke up the next day to the sensation of a wet tongue slobbering all over his hand, which was hanging off the bed. 

He groaned and rolled over, determined to stay in bed and sleep his troubles away. 

However, Hemingway had a different idea. He trotted around to the other side of the bed and gave a very loud “Woof!” 

“Okay, okay, I’ll take you down to do your business but we are not going anywhere near the park.” 

Pete slowly got out of bed and realized he had never changed out of his clothes from the night before. He sighed deeply and shrugged before going to the front door, choosing to take Hemingway down to the small isolated garden located behind the apartment complex.

While Hemmy was taking care of his business, Pete reflected on the last few weeks.  
He and Patrick were getting along so well, or so he thought.

Pete really, really liked Patrick, and had even given himself fully to the other man.

He felt as if he had served up his heart to Patrick on a silver platter, only to have it ripped up in a million tiny pieces then blown into his face like confetti.

Who was that other man? Was he better to Patrick than Pete was? Did they have more in common? Was he Patrick’s boyfriend? Lover? 

Pete shook his head and tried to clear his mind of all the negative thoughts racing through his head. He felt sad and angry, two feelings that, while not strangers to him, were still unwelcome nonetheless. 

Pete tugged on his dog’s leash, leading him back into the apartment building, up to his apartment, and unleashing him before falling back in bed. 

He stared at his Xanax bottle. It offered the escape he needed from all this heartache, if only for a short time. 

Pete opened the bottle and swallowed a few pills, hoping that he would soon be past the point of caring - about Patrick, about the other man, about Christmas, about anything.

***

Pete awoke a couple of days later to someone roughly shaking his shoulder.

“Pete! Pete! Wake up! Come on Pete, answer me!” 

Pete tried to push the hand away and roll over. 

Joe grabbed Pete by the shoulders hard and began shaking him. “Pete, come on! How many did you take?” 

Pete didn’t want to answer Joe; he just wanted to go back to his nice, unproblematic sleep. 

All of the sudden he felt Joe throw back the covers and pick him up, tossing Pete over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and striding into the bathroom. Joe dumped Pete unceremoniously into the shower and turned the water on full stream.

Pete yelped when the cold water hit him, soaking his clothes and causing his hair to drip in his face. 

“Joe!” Pete sputtered. “ What do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to drown me? Turn the water off!” 

Joe did as Pete asked, then punched Pete hard on the shoulder. “You jerk, what were you thinking? Your work called me looking for you, and I came over here to find you passed out and an open bottle of Xanax on the nightstand! What’s wrong, man? Talk to me!” 

Pete slid down the shower wall and sat staring at the grey tiles below his fingers, tears running down his face. 

“Patrick has someone else.” he whispered. “I saw them in the park a couple of days ago kissing and hugging. I thought Patrick and I had something special, Joe. I was falling in love with him and I thought he felt the same. But then he told me he had a surprise for me, and when I went to meet him, I found him in the arms of another man.” 

Pete’s lower lip began to tremble. He looked up at Joe, defeated. “Go ahead and say it. You were right. I shouldn’t have let my heart get involved so quickly. Just say ‘I told you so’ and get it over with.” 

Joe pulled Pete out of the shower and into his arms, not caring in the slightest that his best friend was dripping water all over him.

“Oh Pete, I’m so sorry. I know how much you liked Patrick, and I thought he was a really cool guy when I met him. He gave off some great vibes, you know? Are you sure this isn’t some big misunderstanding?” 

Pete clung to Joe and shook his head against Joe’s shirt. 

“I know what I saw. I just need to accept the fact that whatever I thought Patrick and I had was all in my head.” 

“Well the guy doesn’t deserve you if he’s willing to be with you then be all up on another dude. I am so sorry that happened, man.” 

Pete took a shuddering breath. “I’ve been thinking about getting out of the city for a while, taking Hemmy and going somewhere, anywhere else.” 

Joe pulled Pete away from him, shaking his head at the soaked man. 

“Pete, that’s just running away from your problems. They’ll still be here when you get back. Just stay in Chicago and spend the holidays with me and Marie. Give yourself a break from your family and Patrick. Give Marie a reason to cook.” 

Pete laughed lightly, pushing away from Joe’s chest to grab a nearby towel.

“I’ll think about it.”

***

Joe convinced Pete to take a real shower and clean himself up while he cleaned the apartment and ordered food for them. 

Pete emerged from the bedroom feeling a bit better. He and Joe put on a marathon of Breaking Bad, ate pizza, and sat in comfortable silence. 

Joe slept on the couch, checking on Pete throughout the night. 

A few minutes after dawn Pete climbed out of bed, giving up on sleep altogether. 

He went into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake Joe. Pete made a cup for himself and went to sit at the kitchen table, staring out at the city he loved, the city that had given him so many things, including Patrick. 

While it still hurt to think about the fair-skinned, riptide-eyed man, Pete hoped the fellow that Patrick had ultimately chosen would treat him and CC like the treasures they were.

Joe got up a short time later. “How are you feeling today, man?” 

Pete sighed as he rubbed both hands down his face. “A bit better. I think I’ll go into Island to keep myself busy.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Joe patted Pete’s shoulder and inhaled a cup of coffee and a piece of toast. Before he left to go home to change for work, Joe pulled Pete into a big hug. 

“Please call me the next time you feel down, okay?” 

Pete smiled and nodded, glad he had such an awesome best friend. 

After Joe left, Pete pulled himself together enough to get dressed and make it to the office on time. 

He lost himself in his job, not allowing himself time to reflect on the past few weeks.

When he arrived home he walked Hemingway in the back garden again before settling down in front of the television with a bowl of ramen. 

Pete found his mind wandering. It was two days before Christmas, and he was all alone. 

Two failed relationships in one holiday season, he thought, had to be some sort of record. 

He turned the channel, found the movie “A Christmas Story”, and slumped down on the couch to watch it, Hemmy by his side. 

*** 

At seven p.m. Pete heard a knock on the door. He didn’t know who could be coming to see him two days before Christmas - everyone he knew (except Joe) was either out of town or spending time with family. 

He peered out of the peephole in the door and was surprised to find a frowning, unhappy CC standing in the hall. 

Pete opened the door immediately to the sight of the young girl, arms crossed and foot impatiently tapping on the tiled floor of the hall.

“Looks like Christmas died out here,” CC said, pointedly looking at the ground.

“In a way, it did,” Pete replied softly, averting his eyes from the floor. 

“Does your father know where you are?” Pete asked the girl suspiciously.

CC shook her head. “No, he thinks I ran to Starbucks to get us some coffee so I gotta make this fast. What happened to you? I thought you were an awesome guy because it didn’t seem to matter to you that Dad had me, and that he has a hearing loss. But then you just stop communicating with him? Coming by to see him? I may be 12, but even I know heartbreak when I see it, especially when it’s written all over my Dad’s and your face.” 

CC looked directly at Pete, staring him in the eye, daring him to deny it. 

Pete just stared down at the detritus scattered all over the floor, a metaphor for his love life. 

Pete sighed. “It’s complicated CC, and it’s also between your dad and me.”

CC just huffed. “I was part of this too. I like you a lot Pete, and I like Hemmy. I just want to know what went wrong. Dad really, really likes you. He doesn’t know it, but I can hear him every night crying himself to sleep.” 

At this point CC dropped her shoulders and uncrossed her arms, beginning to shift from side to side on her feet like her father. Pete could see tears forming in her eyes. 

“Please help me understand…,” she whispered.

Pete rubbed his hands down his face, debating with himself before revealing his heartache to her.

“CC, the other day when I came to see your dad at the park I saw him hugging and kissing another man.” Pete shrugged, hands buried in his pockets. “I just figured your dad already had someone in his life.” 

CC looked very puzzled. “What did this guy look like?” she asked, trying to make sense of what Pete was saying. 

Pete shrugged. “He was tall, stocky, had ginger hair and a ginger beard. I think he had a tattoo on his neck.” 

Halfway through Pete’s description CC began shaking her head vehemently. “No, no, no. You’ve got it all wrong! That’s my Uncle Andy! He’s been Dad’s best friend for years! He’s also my godfather!” 

Pete looked at CC, her words taking a few seconds to permeate his brain. “Wait - you mean your father isn’t dating Andy? Isn’t in love with Andy?” 

CC rolled her eyes. “First, EWW. And second, Uncle Andy has a great girlfriend.”

Pete just stood staring at CC, willing his brain to process the information faster. 

“Look,” CC said flatly. “Dad will be home alone on Christmas Eve. I’m gonna spend it with my best friend. We do it every year. Just so you know.”

Pete nodded silently.

“Well, I better get back. See ya Pete.” 

Pete waved as CC turned away from him. “Yeah, see ya.” 

He walked back into his apartment and slid down the back of the closed front door, wrapping his arms around Hemingway’s neck.

He sat there analyzing his feelings, ultimately deciding to go for the one thing he wanted most this Christmas. 

“I’ve got to get him back, Hemmy, and I think I know the perfect way…”

***

Christmas Eve dawned the next day with a wintery white blanket of fresh snow covering every surface of Chicago. 

Pete had walked Hemmy past Patrick’s tree lot the night before after it had closed, noting the early closing time posted on the sign for Christmas Eve. 

Pete had woken up this morning with a new feeling running throughout his body - hope. 

The hope that Patrick would forgive him, the hope that Patrick would take him back, the hope that CC would accept him again, and he hoped against all hope that this would be the one Christmas he wouldn’t have to spend alone. 

Pete wandered around the apartment all day, willing the clock to move faster towards five p.m. That was the time Patrick was closing his tree lot, and that was also the time Pete would put his plan into motion. 

Pete took extra care planning his outfit that day, choosing to wear a black button down shirt, black skinny jeans, boots, and a leather jacket. 

At four o’clock he took Hemmy for a long walk in the garden, feeding him an extra helping of food when they returned to the apartment. 

At five o’clock, with hands shaking, he rode down the elevator to the basement of his building to retrieve his rarely-used shiny black Mercedes SUV. It took him ten minutes to calm himself down so he could start the car and punch Patrick’s address into his GPS. 

The thirty minutes spent driving out to Stump Farms were used to rehearse exactly what he was going to say. He wanted it to be perfect. 

Once he arrived, he climbed out of the vehicle and walked to the front porch, all the while hoping his plan would work. 

He raised his hand, fingers crossed, and rang the doorbell.

***

A light flashed in the house, and soon after Patrick opened the door, a surprised look on his face.

Pete thought he had remembered every minute detail of Patrick’s face, but he came to the conclusion standing there that no memory could compare to the real thing. 

Pete smiled, and Patrick frowned. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, tapping his toe, a perfect replica of CC the night before. 

Pete pointed inside the house, asking for entry. 

Patrick’s face softened a bit, and he hesitantly moved aside so Pete could come in. 

The front door opened into a spacious living room which led into a warm, inviting kitchen. Pete glanced around. The house was cheerful, cozy, and charming, just like its owner. 

Patrick walked towards the couch facing the fireplace and Pete followed. They sat on opposite ends of the couch, barely looking at each other. 

Pete took off his leather jacket and rubbed his sweaty palms on the thighs of his jeans.  
He took a deep breath and turned to face Patrick fully.

Patrick looked at Pete, face guarded, and Pete could see the uncertainty in his eyes. 

Pete took a deep breath and hoped for the best..

Then Pete began to sign. 

“Patrick,” he spelled carefully, “I’m sorry for hurting you. I saw you hugging Andy the other day and I thought you were together. 

But CC came to my apartment and explained everything. 

I should have given you the benefit of the doubt, but my thoughts got away from me. I hope you can forgive me.” 

Pete’s eyes had never left Patrick’s as he signed for the first time to Patrick, and he saw the tears pooling in those big beautiful blue-green eyes. 

“Of course I forgive you. But, how did you learn to sign?” Patrick asked with his hands. 

Pete signed back. “I enrolled in an ASL class two days after I met you, and have been studying it ever since.”

Patrick’s tears spilled down his face. “You - you did that for me?”

Pete smiled and nodded, wiping away Patrick’s tears before signing back. “Yes, because I love you, Patrick.” 

Patrick smiled widely and jumped straight off the couch and into Pete’s arms. He kissed Pete gently. 

He then put his lips to Pete’s ear and whispered softly in a shaky voice, “I love you too, Pete.” 

Pete pulled back and stared at Patrick, astonished, just now noticing the hearing aids in Patrick’s ears. 

“Patrick! What...? How...?”

Patrick once again began to sign. “I have a lip-reading teacher and a vocal coach, but a few months after the accident I quit going. After I met you I realized I wanted to go back again, not only for you or CC, or even for me, but for all of us.”

Pete shook his head in amazement, tears now dotting his cheeks. “I love you so much Patrick,” Pete said clearly so Patrick could understand. 

Patrick looked at Pete, staring at his mouth intently. “Pete,” he said out loud in a husky voice, “Will you be my boyfriend?” 

Pete laughed and nodded his head as hard as he could. “Yes, yes Patrick. I will.” 

Pete then buried his hands in the front of Patrick’s soft thermal shirt and pulled him to his chest, closing the distance between their mouths. 

A thousand words were shared in that kiss, a million emotions. 

Patrick stood and reached his hand out to his boyfriend. “Bedroom?” he said in his raspy voice, which Pete was finding increasingly sexy as time went on. 

Pete just shook his closed fist up and down. “Yes…”

CHRISTMAS EVE - ONE YEAR LATER

The little tree lot stood in the corner of the park, under twinkling Christmas lights, offering trees both big and small to any and all Chicagoans caught up in the holiday spirit. 

The old truck was still parked nearby, and a young teenage girl leaned up against it. 

A couple had been eyeing a tree for several minutes before they finally called out to a fair-haired bespectacled man in an apron that said “Stump Farms.” 

“Excuse me, how much is this tree?” 

The man didn’t answer back. 

The couple were about to call out again, but the girl leaning against the truck addressed them. 

“He can’t hear you. He has a hearing loss. Pops, we have a customer!” 

Around the corner of the truck came a whiskey-eyed, dark haired, caramel skinned man in a similar apron, followed by a bulldog. 

“Hey! I’m Pete. Are you interested in that tree?” 

Pete completed the sale, baled the tree and tied it to the couple’s car. 

He watched as they drove away, reflecting on the past year, full of few hardships and many great achievements. 

Pete felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, and he looked down to see a slim gold wedding band on a pale-skinned left ring finger that matched the one on his own left hand. 

It had been a lovely wedding, taking place the day after Thanksgiving. 

“I love you,” a soft voice whispered in his ear. 

Pete looked back over his shoulder and smiled at his husband, signing to him “I love you, too,” before turning and hugging Patrick tightly.

This year, Pete smiled to himself, they all were going to have a wonderful Christmas.

fin


End file.
